


The Return of the Lion

by chele20035



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Medieval AU, medieval!everlark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8634190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chele20035/pseuds/chele20035
Summary: A baker's son. The huntsman's daughter. Together, their friendship and love will save two countries. This is part of pip over on tumblr.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! Even if you aren't a American, Happy Thanksgiving anyway!
> 
> I need to thank Gentlemama, norbertsmom, notanislader and kleeklutch for what they do so well! This is part of the last Prompts in Panem over on tumblr...
> 
> So I was on pinterest one day, looking at writing prompts and I saw, "the chef ran through the night, clutching the son of the assassinated king..." well this is what happened... I hope you enjoy it! I know its been a while since I've posted anything, but I am still writing. I promise. In fact, I have another new something for you tomorrow, and I'm working like crazy on the next chapter of Watcher! And it will be a Christmas or Yule as they call it, chapter.
> 
> So I'm not quite done yet... so enjoy this as a token of thanks for taking some of your time to read something I wrote. Thank you, friend!

The queen, still bleeding from the childbirth she endured to secure her husband’s heir just weeks ago, kisses her infant son for the hundredth time. Her heart breaks for what she is about to do, but if her love, the king, has his way, this will all be over with very soon.

“I love and adore you, my son. You will be back in my arms very soon, Prince of my heart.” Big blue eyes blink up at her, and she knows that it would be easier to have her love’s claymore slice her open than to do what she is about to do. But she knows that her new babe needs to get to safety before anyone else.

She kisses him again on his sweet little forehead, and before she changes her mind, she pushes him into the arms of her trusted maid. Alice, the daughter of her own mother’s maid, was born the same time, in the same castle in the neighboring country to the north. They grew up together, playing and being mischievous girls together. When the queen was promised to the Prince, now her King not too long ago, it was Alice who begged to be able to go with her old friend.

“Alice—“ the queen doesn’t even try to stop her tears from her voice.

Alice throws her one free arm around her friend and they share a long hug. “I promise to look after your son. I do wish you would come with us.”

The queen shakes her head. “You go to the chef. Your love will help—“ she pauses for a long moment to calm her ragged breath and to grab something from her jewelry box to press into Alice’s hand. “Run, run home to father if you can, but go.”

Alice looks down at the leather bag and then the babe. “I can’t—“

“You can, and you must. Now if—“

“Don’t you mean when?”

The queen nods. “Yes, you’re right. When his majesty defeats Sir Snow, I’ll send for you and that’s when you will come back.”

“You need to come with us,” Alice begs.

The keep shakes as something hits the outer wall. The queen pales when she hears her husband’s shout. “I cannot. Run, dear Alice, run.”

The maid takes the long wrap and with the queen’s help, they secure the young prince so Alice can run freely with her chef. Alice stops her old friend with a touch. “What shall I call him?”

The queen shakes her head. “Don’t tell me in case I fall into the wrong hands.” She kisses her son one last time while her tears wet his little face.

After the queen hugs her, Alice exits the queen’s chamber. Instead of going down the hallway, she runs through the servant’s hidden passage to the kitchens. As expected, they are empty, everyone hiding, fighting or running like she is planning.

She quickly finds her love’s tuft of blond hair by the window that looks out over the courtyard. Reaching his side, she whispers, “Bram?”

He jumps and turns to her. “Alice?” he asks, relief washing over his face before he sees the babe tied to her chest. “What—“

“Do you love me like you said last night?”

His face changes from shocked surprise, to brows knitted in confusion to a goofy smile in spite of the battle raging outside their peaceful abode. He kisses her on the nose, and promises, “I do. You know that, I hope?”

She nods then looks down at the now sleeping babe. “I’m so glad because we need to go.”

“Go?”

Alice nods. “Go. The queen bids us to go. To take the Prince and run. Go home if we can.”

Bram had been another addition to the household in recent months. The queen’s own father sent him in hopes to help her get through the cravings the Prince caused. After all, it was his father who was the baker for their village. “Run?” Bram echoes.

Alice nods, finally able to let her own tears flow unchecked. “She said—“

Bram kisses her forehead and looks down the at sleeping babe. “Pack some food. Do you have a change of clothes for him or you?”

Alice shakes her head, as the very castle shakes on its foundations. Bram, seeing the panic in his love’s eyes takes charge. He grabs a simple sack, throws in the bread he just got out of the oven, some leftover turkey from the night before and several apples. He goes to the larder and gathers as many rags he can with a simple thank you to above that he cooks for a king.

He runs back into the kitchen, and grabs Alice’s hand and together they go out the servant’s entrance. Bram starts for the back wall, but Alice stops him with a sharp tug. With an excited pant, she gasps, “Horse, let’s get the queen’s horse.”

Bram glances at the barn then to her. He’s never ridden a horse, just the little ponies his father used to pull the cart to market. He whispers half to escape notice, half unable to admit this to the one he loves. “You can ride?”

Alice nods. “Aye, when I was but a girl, the queen and I would ride all over.” She tries to reassure him when she touches his arm and steps into him. “’tis alright. Let’s go.”

Her courage makes him strong as she leads the mare out of the stall. “Grab that saddle,” she tells Bram. She tightens the bridle, while he lifts the saddle over the wall. It only takes her a moment to saddle the horse when she turns to Bram.

“Come on then,” she encourages him as she leads the mare over to the mounting block.

Bram takes a deep breath, and almost runs back into the keep. Instead the little prince wiggles, and grunts causing Alice to pat his bottom. “Bram,” she whispers harshly, “I’ve got to go. And I need you, but most of all, the Prince needs you.”

She holds out her hand to him, and by some miracle, he takes it. He climbs the block, and she gently says, “Put your foot in the stirrup there.” She places the bit of leather over his toes. Then she climbs on the block. With a glance down at the Prince, she forgets all that her dearest friend taught her about being a lady, throws her leg over the horse. Bram snakes his arms around her waist, and she nudges the horse forward. They ease out of the stable in time to see a knight dressed all in silver, wrapped in a red flag emblazoned with a gold bird, run his sword through their sweet King.

Alice chokes back a scream as the mighty sire wobbles in his saddle before the silver knight takes the edge of his sword and knocks the king’s helmet off. An eerie silence falls on the courtyard as the silver knight lifts up his own visor and sneers, “I’ve waited a long time to see your head roll, Rolfe.”

Years later, Bram swears that everything around them stopped but for the sword slicing through the air. It connects with skin, muscle and bone with a fatal swoop. His royal majesty, Rolfe of Panem falls dead at his faithful steed’s hooves.

His beautiful bride, Penelope of but eleven months’ screams as her heart breaks into a million pieces as she watches her husband fall. The Queen tries to hold on but she can feel her mind slipping as Alice rides through the gates. Her mind snaps as she starts to pull her hair, madness driving her.

She is still screaming when a man of Sir Snow’s finds her. With a firm hit, he knocks her unconscious and catches her before she hits the floor.

Kpkpkpkp

 

“But Daddy, why didn’t we get the deer instead of the squirrels too? I know you could have gotten that one too.”

He stops walking long enough for her ten year-old legs to catch up with him. “Katniss, I told you, we must wait until a couple of weeks before we try for the deer. Besides, we have crops still to harvest. We shoot the squirrels to give your mother some coin to replenish her medicine.” He bumps into her making her stumble. When she looks up at him with a scowl on her face he chuckles, “Come let’s go to the bakery. I bet that friend of yours would like some squirrel for supper tonight.”

She nods. “He might.”

“I bet about now, his dad is taking rolls out of the oven.”

She hops down the path ahead of her father. “Come on, I’m famished.”

He chuckles behind her. “I hear the effects of you studying with father Plutarch.”

She slows before she gets to the clearing before the village. Before he steps past the trees, she stops him. “Why do some say that schooling is wasted on me? The old women down in the square shakes their heads—“

Her father drops down in a crouch until he is eye level with her. “Oh dearest, they are stuck in the old ways of thinking that a woman is only good for one or two things.” He sees her opening her mouth but he continues after he closes her mouth with a nudge. “We will talk about those things later. Why do you think your mother can help like she can? Because when she was but a girl, she did her lessons with father Plutarch. Those old women can’t see past their own noses much less into a future where you need to know how to read and do sums.” He kisses her on the nose. “Now didn’t someone say something about fresh bread?”

She throws her arms around him, almost knocking them both to the ground. With more laughter, he sets her to right and they head to the bakery.

The buildings in the small village are simple one room places. The kingdom has been poor since the king was killed several years ago. But the earl whose village this was does his best to keep them fed at least.

Not for the first time, the huntsman is glad he has his bow.

When they get within sight of the building, a young blond headed boy comes running out. The huntsman can’t help but to notice the smile as big as the sun from the young man, greeting his daughter. “Katniss! Can you stay and play?”

She looks over her shoulder at her father and for a moment he has a flash of what may be. He nods, and she bubbles, “Yes!” They continue chattering back and forth as they walk in. He follows them, and the baker calls out a greeting, “Hello there, Jack Everdeen! What have you for me today?”

Jack smiles at his old friend, and pulls out the squirrels. Bram smiles and pulls out the rolls he was saving for him. Jack waits until the children go out the back door before he asks, “How is Alice?”

A heaviness settles over Bram. He shakes his head. “Lily was here all morning trying to ease her pains. Nothing helped.”

Jack pats his friend on the shoulder. “I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”

Bram blinks several times. “Just promise me something?”

“Of course, anything.”

Bram looks around like he has a great secret to tell. Instead he asks, “Will you look after Peeta? That is if something happens to me too?”

Jack takes in his friend’s worried look. “You don’t even have to ask. Hell, if it was acceptable, I would go ahead and betroth them,” he chuckles, “but that’s only for nobles.” Jack is chuckling at his little joke that he doesn’t notice how Bram chuckles along nervously.

Kpkpkpkp

“Katniss! Wait for me!”

She giggles but doesn’t slow down until she reaches the creek. Little bare feet jump from rock to rock along their familiar path to the other side. Not slowing down, she runs up the bank to the grove of trees.

There among the old orchard, set in a bank, is a cave that they discovered one day. She ducks in and only sits down when he comes storming in behind her. “Why didn’t you wait?” he gasps.

His little forehead is wrinkled and she reaches out to grab him. She pulls him down beside her and says, “I’m sorry Peeta, I just wanted us to hurry. I talked to Daddy.”

“You did? What did he say?”

At his question, she starts bouncing on their make-shift bench. “He said that if it’s alright with your Dad, then he would be more than happy to teach you to hunt.”

“You know what this means?” He doesn’t even pause at the scowl that appears on his oldest friend’s face. “If I can get really good, then maybe someone might consider me to be their squire.” His eyes widen as joy lights up his face. “If I can become a squire, then I can become a knight.”

“You want to go live at the Earl’s castle?” she asks, trying to keep the tears out of her voice. She’s always known that this was his dream, but she figured that he would stay here and be the baker.

“Well it’s the only way for me to become a knight.” He jumps up and grabs the branch he’s carried around for years. With a couple of swipes in front of her face, he grins. “Then you can be my lady fair and I will build you a big castle and everyone can come live with us.”

“Peeta,” she whispers as he continues to jump around to excited to pay attention to her. Her heart hurts, like it’s breaking or something.

Kpkpkpkp

It takes him almost three seasons, but soon his arrows find their target surpassing her and almost as good as her father’s. Katniss isn’t sure why, but with every arrow that he sinks, her heart hurts a little bit more. In a strange mix of preadolescence feelings, she is happy for him too.

She just doesn’t want to think about what will happen when he’s gone.

One Saturday after they come in from the forest, instead of walking Peeta by the bakery, they all go to the Everdeen cottage. A couple times a year, Peeta’s parents leave him with the Everdeen’s, and leave for a couple of days. It happens so much that no one questions where or why. The two childhood friends, now grown to 5 with Katniss’ little sister, and Peeta’s two little brothers, all play together in the woods behind the old cottage.

“Did Alice ever tell you where they go?” Jack asks his wife, Lily.

She wipes her hands off on her apron and comes up behind him at the back door. Little heads weave in and out of the trees as they chase one another. “She never did. I always thought they went to market to get supplies. They always come back with a wagon full.”

Jack nods. “Aye’ they do.” He shrugs, and wraps his wife in his arms and steals a kiss. “Come along wife, we have several scamps to feed tonight.”

Kpkpkpkp

Alice, who still feels weak from her prolonged illness, straightens out her best dress. She takes a steadying breath, and laces her hand through Bram’s arm. They walk slowly through the servant’s quarters, dreading having to go see the Earl.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers in her ear.

She smiles a little secret smile even though he can’t see her in the dark hallway. “And you look handsome.”

He runs a hand down the front of his best tunic. It’s the only one without any stains since he only wears it when they come on these trips. He pulls her up short before they step into the private room of the Earl. “Let me tell him of Peeta’s desires.”

Alice glances up at the man who helped her get the Prince to safety so many years ago. “I think you should. Man-to-man and all that.”

Bram shakes his head at her, and smirks. “Aye’, my lady.”

They enter what the Earl calls his study. Years ago when Alice was but a little girl running these halls with her friend, it was in this room her father always stayed. Alice tries to draw a steady breath, but it’s not until Bram lays his hand on top of hers, that her nerves settle.

She sinks into a deep curtsey, while Bram bows. The same gruff voice that used to greet her in her youth beckons, “Come closer you two. Bram, shut the door behind you.”

Alice waits for her husband to rejoin her and together they cross the room. The Earl sits before them. As she does every time, Alice carefully examines him. His blond waves now are littered with grey, even more than the last time they were here. The fine lines that were settling about his eyes are deeper now. He’s been working outside this past summer as the deep tan on his face tells her. His sky-blue eyes, the same one that her Peeta has, twinkle at her, waiting for the news they bring him.

“How is my grandson?” He asks gruffly as he waves them to claim a seat.

Alice smiles like only a mother could when she thinks about Peeta. Not once since he was entrusted to her has she not thought of him as hers. She just wishes, not for the first time, that her friend could have seen him grow up. Bram answers, “He is growing by leaps and bounds. Just recently, he had to have new pants.”

Alice nods. “I had to hurry and sew them so he could have them the next day.”

Bram continues, “He recently started going out with the village huntsman—“

“He’s doing what?” the earl interrupts, his face growing red. “What is he doing in the forest? Anyone could see him—I knew it was foolishness to let him linger with you two—“

This time it’s Alice’s turn to interrupt. “My lord, please. He is with friends, one if not both would lay down their lives for him. He wanted to learn to hunt—“

Bram takes her hand and a deep breath. “He wants to become a knight, my Lord.”

The earl exhales loudly and the same sadness they have felt through the year’s creeps into his eyes. “She is still alive,” he whispers.

Alice gasps, and Bram swears under his breath. “Surely not, my lord. After all this time?”

The earl nods. “She is locked in the same tower she shared with the king, the same rooms she had the Prince in. From the missive my man sent, she is locked up there with only her maid allowed to wait on her.”

Alice blinks as her eyes fill with tears. Bram gathers her closer and she lays her head on his chest. The earl coughs across from them. “My poor queen,” Alice whispers against her husband’s chest.

A loud sniff makes both Alice and Bram look up and a teary earl meets their eyes. He offers them his handkerchief, and scrubs at his own eyes. “She loved him, she really did. That’s the only reason why I let my Elizabeth leave. And now, I can’t even claim her son.” He sniffs again, and Alice offers him the cloth back. He takes it, and blows his nose. “The spy said that Snow, has no idea that he was even born so he knows not to look for him.” He stares into the fire for a long moment before he says, “Aye’, send me my grandson. I will make him a knight so fierce that he will avenge us all.”

Alice opens her mouth to say something, anything, but Bram squeezing her makes her stop. “Sir, my lord. We have two more sons at home—“

The earl meets his gaze. Understanding flashes in the earl’s eyes. “You can pack up your bakery, and come to the castle with the boy. The lad is but ten? Never been away from you?” Bram nods and the earl continues, “Pack up your bakery. Snow has become careless for my man to be able to find out what they did.” He lifts up his whiskey and says, “Bring me your sons, I will make them all knights to avenge us all.”

Kpkpkpkp

No one has to tell a child that when a group of adults are huddled together, whispering, that it’s not good.

“What are they saying?”

“I don’t know, Katniss.” Peeta locks gazes with Prim and his little brother Rhys. “You two, go down and see what they are saying.”

Katniss swats his arm, making several tufts of straw fall from the loft above the stove. While their parents were gone, this is where the baker’s sons and the Everdeen girls sleep. “They are too little,” she hisses. The adults have stopped talking and are now watching them. “We are about to find out what they were conversing about.”

“What’s conversing?” six-year-old Prim pipes up.

“It means playing,” seven-year-old Rhys answers while the very youngest at three, Mac sticks his thumb back in his mouth.

There is just enough room for Katniss to stand up in the loft. Which she does, and grabs Mac, and settles him on her hip. “It means talking. Come on, let us go see what they are planning for us.”

All five children ramble down the creaky-make-shift steps until all are standing before their parents. Mac reaches for his mama, while Katniss and Peeta creep closer together. Something in the air tells the ten-year-olds that whatever this announcement is going to be, it’s not good news.

Jack looks to Bram, and with a reassuring nod, Bram begins, “We went to see the Earl—“

Peeta gasps and jumps forward, “You went to see the Earl?”

“We did. I had the opportunity to talk to him. I told him about how hard you’ve worked and that you want to be a knight— “

“I’m going to be a knight?” Peeta interrupts, bouncing on his tip toes in excitement. He is so happy, he doesn’t see how his friend’s face falls.

Alice nods. “The earl has invited all of us to move— “

Peeta grabs her hands. “You are coming with me? Even my brothers?”

“The whole family is going,” Bram confirms as Peeta grabs him about the waist. The little boys don’t understand what is going on, while Katniss watches all this with a hurting heart.

Quietly, Jack comes to her side, and slides his arm around her. She hugs him about the waist, and buries her nose in his side. The others keep talking while she tries to hide her tears. Her father’s shirt soaks them all up.

“Katniss?” Peeta’s sweet adolescent voice cracks her name behind her.

Her father’s hand settles softly in between her shoulder blades. “She’s tired, son. You can talk to her later, alright?”

She squeezes her father tighter, and can only imagine the look of confusion on her friend’s face. They remain standing while the others gather up their meager things and after some hushed goodbyes, the cottage is silent.

“Come here, Catkin.”

 

She follows blindly the sound of his voice to his rocking chair by the fireplace. He sits, and pulls her onto his lap. “Daddy—“ she begins to protest.

“You are still my Catkin.” He kisses her on the forehead and tucks her under his chin as he begins to rock. She exhales, relaxing into his hug. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

She nods, but remains quiet. Her father, so wise keeps on rocking.

Kpkpkpkp

It takes them a couple of days, but soon the Mellark’s have the bakery packed up. While they packed, Katniss kept her distance, watching from the woods. Several times Peeta came looking for her, but she didn’t call out to him.

The sun rose on their last day in the village. Katniss knows she needs to tell him so much, but her courage fails her and she runs to hide in their cave. Several months ago when it was still winter, Peeta had brought a blanket his mother had given him from one of her mysterious trips. It had to be the softest thing Katniss had ever felt, even softer than the fuzzy kittens the Hawthornes were trying to give away.

There is a rustle outside the cave, and she jumps up, ready for anything. When she sees his white blond hair, all of the tears she’s been hiding come to the surface.

“Why are you hiding from me?” He whispers, her heart breaking at the hurt she hears.

She looks down at her bare toes in the dirt. “I don’t want to tell you goodbye.”

His voice is closer, “I don’t want to tell you goodbye either. I wish you could come with me.”

She looks up, her silver eyes meeting his blue ones. “You are going to be a knight,” she says trying to sound cheerful, instead her voice cracks.

He takes her hands in his. “Then I will come and fetch you and you will be my lady.”

She shakes her head. She’s never met a lady, but she knows that they don’t come from poor huntsman’s cottages. “The earl doesn’t want me, Peeta. You, he does want.”

“But we are friends, aren’t we?” he pleads. His sorrow makes his normally happy eyes, sad. He takes her hand and places it on his chest where she can feel his heart beating under her palm.

She nods. “Of course, Peeta. Will you come to visit?”

He nods. “Will you visit me?”

“If father will bring me.”

He looks down at their feet, and she follows his gaze. Something twists in her heart when she sees new boots on his feet next to her bare toes. “You have boots on—“

“The earl sent them to me.” She can hear the pride in his voice causing her to look up.

“He must really want you then.”

“That’s what mother said. Will you come and watch us leave?”

She can’t keep her tears from falling, she just hopes in the dim light of the cave he can’t see them. “If you want me to.”

He grabs her hand, and drags her out behind him into the early morning sun. She runs after him until she steps on a rock, making her trip. He stops immediately, crouching down by her in the dust. “Are you alright?”

The blood on her foot makes her wince and it just adds to the misery in her heart. She wipes at it with the corner of her dress. He stands back up, and his hand appears in front of her face. Begrudgingly, she takes it and he pulls her to her feet.

Peeta turns around and says, “Get on.”

With a heavy sigh, she picks up her skirts. She twists them, and hops up on his back. Her arms wrap around his neck, and his hands grab her legs.

“Does it hurt?” He asks softly.

“No. I’ll be fine as soon as Mama stops the bleeding,” she says begrudgingly. She doesn’t want to admit how much she is going to miss him, but her indifference hurts even her. A whiff of fresh bread surrounds her like a warm blanket on a winter’s day. “Who is going to bake for us?”

He steps over a branch, jostling her gently. “I’m not sure. I wonder if the Earl will send someone?”

A deep melancholy settles over her. Not meaning to, she lays her head next to his, and inhales him. “I didn’t mean to hide.”

He pauses right before they reach the clearing of the village. “I think I want to go hide with you.”

“Let me down Peeta.” He eases her down, and she grabs him so she can balance on her one good foot. “You are so brave.” He finally meets her eyes. “You have dreamed about this your whole life. Even Father Plutarch wants this for you.”

He nods. “I will make all of you proud.”

She doesn’t say what she wants to say. Instead she wishes, “You will.” A voice in the distance calls for him, interrupting them. He looks towards the village and turns his back to her and she hops back on.

They are quiet the rest of the way. When their parents spot them, her father and his father rush to meet them. The older men relieve him of her and mothers come to check on them. In no time, Lily has Katniss’ foot cleaned and a rag wrapped around it.

With heavy hearts, the two families begin their goodbyes. Everyone fades around her as she watches her boy. “When Father Plutarch comes, will you send word?”

She nods. “Be safe,” she bids him.

He nods. Bram speaks over his shoulder, “Come on. It’s time to go.”

They look at one another, then they are hug each other. “Bye Katniss.”

“Bye, Peeta.”

Her Dad hands Peeta up into the wagon while his brothers find their seats in the wagon. They will ride for a way, while Bram and Alice will walk. Jack pats Rhys, then Mac on the back before he gets to Peeta. He leans over to whisper something in his ear so low that Katniss can’t even hear it.

Her father pulls away, then picks her up for one last hug. She jumps onto the bench, and little skinny arms surround one another as she breathes in his bread filled scent one more time.

Katniss wishes there was some way she could freeze this moment, but too soon they are being pulled apart. She goes to kiss Peeta on the cheek, but at the last moment, he turns his head. Their lips land on one another. They both jump back in surprise. The adults around them burst into laughter as their little faces heat up as her Dad lifts her out of the wagon.

She whispers, again, “Bye Peeta.”

And while he looks sad too, he grabs her hand one last time. “I promise not to forget you.”

The wagon jumps forward as Bram commands the ponies to go. The two ten-year-old watch one another until the wagon rounds the first curve, making the Mellark’s disappear from sight.

Kpkpkpkp

She is running through the forest, practice making her know when to dodge and when to swerve to miss the low branches. It’s been five moons since he left, the chill of fall is in the air, but still she runs.

Their cave appears and not for the first time, she wonders what it would be like for him to be in there waiting on her like he used to. Instead she finds an empty cave with a too soft blanket, just as she left it the day before.

Unable to handle the lonely space right now, she grabs the blanket that smells of her boy, the bakery and earth, wraps it around herself and walks back to her cottage.

Kpkpkpkp

Prim crawls up beside Katniss in their Dad’s rocking chair. Katniss squirms to make room for her before she sets the chair to moving. “Tell me a story,” six-year-old Prim requests.

Katniss inhales, wishing she felt better. “About what?”

“How about one of the stories Father Plutarch told you?”

Katniss nods. “Once there was boy named David. His brothers were all away from home fighting for the king—“

“What king? Is it our king?”

“No Primmy. This is a Bible story. Hush and listen, they were all off fighting in a faraway land so little David had to go watch the sheep.”

Lily interrupts the girls when she comes in from visiting the sick. “What are you two doing?”

Prim jumps up and walks over to their mother. “What did you bring me?”

Lily chuckles and Katniss scowls. “I thought I was telling you a story?”

Prim shrugs. “You can do that later.”

Lily ruffles Prim’s hair. “How did you know I brought you something? What if I brought Katniss something?”

Before Katniss even gets to them, the smell of fresh bread reaches her nose. “Is Peeta back?”

“Oh love. No, the new baker finally arrived.” Lily wraps her arm around Katniss and kisses the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

Katniss buries her nose in her mother’s waist while Lily rubs her back. “I wonder what Peeta is doing? 

Kpkpkpkp

He hits the dust, landing flat on his back. Pain blossoms across his chest. The gelding that just unseated him nickers down at him before he trots away.

His tears threaten to fall, but he blinks fast demanding his body not to betray him. Not now, not after seeing how the other boys teased Cato for crying last week when he dropped the lance on his foot.

Nope, he tries to get his lungs to working again. These people will never see him cry. He clambers slowly to his feet where his squire, Finnick, is waiting for him.

“God’s breath, you stayed on longer that I thought you would,” the young man with hair the color of copper says.

Peeta tries to grin through the pain, “I never knew riding a horse was so much trouble.”

“I’m shocked that your father never taught you how to ride, or at least how to keep your seat.”

Peeta looks down at the dust still settling. The other boys don’t know where he came from. When he met the earl several months ago, he didn’t say not to say that he came from the village, but the other boys didn’t know that his parents worked in the kitchens. He mutters, “I’m just out of practice is all.” He kicks at the dust. “I’ll get better.”

Finnick throws his arm around Peeta’s narrow shoulders. “Come on Mellark, let’s go find something cold to drink.”

They enter the already ancient castle, stopping in the kitchens. The busyness of the men and women reminds Peeta of the bakery that he misses more than he wants to admit.

His mother stops and presses a kiss to his cheek before she hurries to finish kneading the bread for dinner.

“Mother?” He calls after her following her to the stoves.

“Peeta? What is it son?”

He exhales loud enough for her to hear. That's when she notices how dirty he is. Her voice is a safe reminder of who she is, “What happened, son?”

Peeta looks down and shrugs. “I don’t know how to do anything--”

Alice grabs him, and takes him out the back door. When they are out of ear-shot of anyone, she says, “You know plenty. I thought Finnick was helping you?”

He nods. “He is.” He looks so lost, Alice’s heart goes out to him. Maybe she should have insisted that Peeta start his training sooner. But the ever present worry that King Snow will discover them even far away in another country, kept them safe, hidden in the bakery. “I know that it’s tough being here and everything being so new.” She hates to ask him, but she feels that she must, “Do you want to go back to the village?”

Peeta shakes his head before she even finishes. His eyes flash in the setting autumn sun. That is a look she knows too well, and it makes her smile. “No, Mama. I can do this.”

He squares his shoulders and walks back into the kitchen, leaving her watching after him with a knowing smile on her face.

Kpkpkpkp

The deer ahead of her munches quietly on the grass. The field is narrow, but the grass long enough to lure the deer of woods to leave the safety of the trees to find their supper. Her little skinny arms, which are gaining strength more and more every day, pulls her bow taunt. The feathers touch her cheek while she kisses the end of the arrow for luck. At the same moment the deer lifts his head, she lets go of the string.

Thunk.

It sinks into his eye, falling the majestic beast. Her father’s hand comes down on her shoulder. “Good job Catkin.”

He walks out of the bushes with her close on his heels as he leads the way to the beast. It’s not moving when they get to it. With a thankful prayer on his lips, Jack slits it’s throat. He continues to give thanks as the blood flows onto the black earth.

Katniss pulls on the arrow, but it’s wedged tight. Her father places his warm hand over hers, and together they pull the arrow free. He wipes it off on the grass around them, and places it back into her quiver.

Together they manage to hoist the deer up on his shoulders and start down the path that leads back to their little village. Just last week, the Everdeens celebrated Katniss’ eleven years.

Winter is reluctant to let go, grasping her with its chilly fingers even this second week of May as Katniss pulls her woven sweater tighter around her. 

 

She tries not to think of Peeta.

Father Plutarch has been to the Earl’s twice, once at Michaelmas as they were gathering in the harvest, and again at Christmas. Both times, she sent word, a small note asking after him.

Not a word back.

Father Plutarch assured her that he is well, thriving in fact, along with the rest of the Mellarks. Father asked if Katniss had wanted to send another word. With a stubborn tilt to her chin, she refused, stomping out of the church with a hasty, “Have a safe trip, Father Plutarch,” thrown over her shoulder.

It’s been a sennight since the Father left, Katniss’ little eleven-year-old mind wonders if he’s is back. She runs into a solid object so hard, she lands on her bottom. Jack turns and chuckles at his daughter. “What are you doing?”

She feels her face flush hot, and jumps up. She stomps past him, while muttering, “Come on, Daddy.” Leaving him shaking his head after her.

Jack watches her stomp past their cottage heading towards the main part of the village. A father’s intuition tells him exactly where she is going and he hopes for his sake, and hers that the boy sent word this time.

Katniss doesn’t even see the other villagers as she heads to the abbey. She also can’t stop the grin that appears when she spots the Father’s mule, Pebble, standing in the yard munching on his oats. He ignores her as she runs around the church to the humble room where the Father makes his home.

She quiets herself before she gets there, listening to hear if Father Plutarch is busy. She approaches the door, to hear his soft murmur. “Curses,” she whispers, realizing that she caught him at his prayers.

Something hits her shoulder with enough force to knock her off her balance but she is able to catch herself this time. Pebbles nickers at her and she reaches up to scratch his ears. “You beast, knocking me down,” she whispers. “I thought we were friends?”

“You are, he just wanted you to pay attention to him,” Father Plutarch’s gravelly voice reaches her. “He was a little neglected at the castle, you or Prim weren’t there to scratch his head or give him treats.”

Katniss bows her head and drops into the half curtsy he’s been trying to teach her after she asked about the ladies at the earl’s castle. Unable to wait any longer, she gushes, “How was your trip? Did you see Peeta? Did he say anything?”

The Father chuckles. “Come in, Katniss and let a weary old man rest his bones.”

Her face heats at his gentle but admonishing words. He turns to go back in and she follows him meekly. Plutarch sits in the chair Jack had carved for him for teaching his girls, while Katniss fetches him a glass of ale.

His eyes twinkle at her over the rim of his mug as she sits in the chair across from him. When he drinks his fill, he reaches into the sleeve of his robe, and pulls out a folded piece of paper.

Katniss eagerly reaches for it, the thickness of it surprising her. It must have shown on her face because the Father adds, “He trusted someone to bring the notes to me before I left. It wasn’t until I said how disappointed you were that we figured out the mystery. His messenger didn’t think it was important for your letters to reach me.”

She looks down at the packet, her heart jumping madly in her chest. His mug knocking on the table claims her attention. “Fetch me some more ale, Lass. Then you can go read.”

Leaping up, she presses a quick kiss to his cheek and refills his cup. After she returns it, she adds, “Thank you, Father.” And runs out the door.

He says something behind her, but their cave is her destination now so she doesn’t pay attention to his words. She skips over the rocks in the path, her bare feet taking her there quickly.

When she gets to the cave, she can’t help but to stop before the entrance. She hasn’t been back since that day she took his blanket home. She also knows that there’s nowhere else she’d rather be to read his words.

The familiar earthy smell greets her nose. Everything is as she left it, not that there was much in here to begin with. She sits down on the make-shift bench close to the entrance. She carefully opens the paper. His words greet her.

Katniss,  
I’m so sorry. I thought I had gotten a note to the Father when he was here, but he let me know that I hadn’t. So I beg for your forgiveness. I am learning many things. They still won’t let me have a sword. Finnick says maybe next year. Finnick is my squire while Boggs is the knight over us both.

I’ve only seen the Earl when he comes out to watch us train. He is a scary fellow and easily makes us paiges shake in our boots. He treats us well enough, we eat several times a day, have plenty of water, and comfortable beds.

Mother said that I might be able to come visit during harvest. I do hope I can. Mac and Rhys are both ready to begin training, but Dad says they aren’t old enough.

I hear Finnick calling for me. Write when the Father can bring the note.

Peeta

 

She folds the paper carefully along the creases and tucks it into her pocket. Not sure what to do now, she jumps back up, and runs back to her cottage.

On the way down the path, she stops at the place where her path meets with the trail her father uses when he’s been hunting all day. The sun is at the place in the sky that tells her that he hasn’t come in yet.

She slides her hand back into her pocket and touches the letter. With the need to tell someone about it, she skips down the trail that leads deeper into the wood.


End file.
